Creeping into the room as graceful as a predator, their piercing eyes locked onto their target. It was past time. They needed fuel for their fire. But would it be enough? Given an answer by moonbeams surrounding it, they continued their steady pursuit. Mouths watering, chests heaving with excitement, they edged closer.
The room was quite dull. The only object was a bed with white sheets and a white pillow. It contrasted the darkness surrounding it, and they hated it. Using their razor teeth, it was torn off, leaving only the dark-wooded bed posts. Light was still there, though. Were the white sheets not what they were called to devour?
Their question was answered yet again, but by short, sharp breaths. Eyes narrowed, they turned their heads downward. Now, this is what they've been looking for. All together, they lifted the mattress and threw it into the darkness, leaving their prize vulnerable under the few pieces of wood covering it. The breathing stopped.
Very few seconds passed by in what seemed like days. The breathing resumed, but this time, it was calm and quiet, eyes connected with its predator's beaming eyes. The world seemed to have stopped, because in that moment, victory was within their grasp.
The moonbeams left them in the darkness. There was one last deep inhale. The predators closed their eyes, taking in the rush of immense fear. It was cowardly, they thought, to hide under a bed. What comfort could that possibly bring?
Without warning, the darkness crashed through the middle of the bed posts, devouring its victim. Down…down…down they went under the bed, tearing the walls and ceiling around them until there was nothing left on the outside but a bed with no mattress, no pillows, and no sheets. A huge hole was in the middle, yet somehow, it managed to stay pieced together.
The last thing heard was a cry of sheer terror. It went on and on, until…it was Pitch Black.